


A Trip to the Museum

by BrynTWedge



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Caring Mycroft Holmes, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Sickfic, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 01:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21366244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrynTWedge/pseuds/BrynTWedge
Summary: Greg wakes up quite unwell, and unable to make any of the plans he's organised for the day.Thankfully, Mycroft steps in to help.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 28
Kudos: 209
Collections: Mystrade Sickfics / Hurt-Comfort Collection





	A Trip to the Museum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trillian_jdc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trillian_jdc/gifts).

> This fic was won for the Mark Gatiss Birthday Drive. Trillian_jdc said they liked text message exchanges, caring for each other when sick, and fake relationships. 
> 
> I hope this is what you were hoping for!

Greg’s mobile chimed. He groaned, sniffled, coughed, and threw his arm out to find it. He knocked the decongestant off the nightstand, but still didn’t find his phone.

He groaned again, reduced to having to open his eyes for it. Even the darkened room hurt his head.

He found it, and realised he now had to look at it to read it. Squinting, he was just able to read the message without the room spinning too much.

  * I’ll be there in half an hour. Can’t wait to see you, Greggy. Looking forward to the exhibition! Love Mum

“Fuck,” he exclaimed, despite his sore throat. He’d forgotten entirely about it. His mum had booked tickets to see the Egyptian exhibit at the museum months ago, and he’d promised to go with her. In the flu fog, he’d forgotten it was today.

Greg screwed his eyes together. _Maybe if I go, they’ll kill me and mummify me. Surely that’ll be better than this. _He wrapped an arm around his aching stomach. It was typical of his luck; the first time he had some time off in months, and the moment he stopped working he was hit with the full force of illness like a train. It was only a mild cold yesterday!

Another text tone.

  * Gregory, forgive me but had we agreed on 10?

It took a while for Greg to work out what the message meant. _Mycroft. Double fuck_. He’d organised a brunch with him, and had been rather looking forward to it. It wasn’t often he was able to spend time with the enigmatic Holmes away from work.

His heart ached along with the rest of his body. He desperately wanted to see Mycroft; he’d gone beyond having a crush years ago, and was still firmly stuck in ridiculous pining from unrequited utter head-over-heels love.

It was now almost 12. Mycroft was in a patient mood today, it seemed. Suddenly he felt upset and in his addled state, couldn’t hold it in.

  * Sory, cn’t doit, tooo sick. wantd to. so bad nd have mum her soon for that museeeum thing. cant handl it why life scrw me.

Greg hadn’t realised he’d fallen asleep until he woke to the sound of another message.

  * Oh, dear. I’ll be right there.

The last thought he had before falling back asleep was despair at Mycroft Holmes seeing him covered in snot and drool, unable to put on even clean pants. 

~

“Gregory?”

_That sounds like Myc. _

“Here, have some water.”

He opened his eyes and saw Mycroft sitting on the bed beside him, holding out a glass for him to drink. Greg smiled and took a sip, warmth blooming in his chest like he’d been wrapped in a warm blanket. _He’s taking care of me._ It was almost enough to bring him to tears.

“You’re burning up,” Mycroft commented, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me you were unwell?”

Greg swallowed. “Came on suddenly,” he responded hoarsely, nose blocked. “Thought I’d be fine yesterday.”

“Hopefully it passes as swiftly as it came.”

Greg nodded and enjoyed the feeling of slim fingers through his hair. “Mum’ll be disappointed. Coming all the way in from Bridgwater.”

A buzz sounded from the door. “That’ll be her.” Greg moved to get up, but Mycroft pressed his chest to keep him there.

“Stay here, I’ll get it.”

Greg didn’t have it in him to argue. Mycroft left and let his mum into the building; a moment later there was a cry.

“Greg–oh, who are you?”

“Mrs Lestrade, my name’s Mycroft. Please, come in.”

“Alright.” Greg could hear the confusion in her voice. “Why are you in my son’s apartment? Where’s Greg?”

“I’m afraid Greg has quite suddenly come down with the flu. He’s to remain in bed.”

“Oh.” _That was very obvious disappointment._

“But not to worry; Greg will be alright given plenty of rest. In the meantime, might I escort you to the museum instead?”

“Sorry, who are you, again?”

“Mycroft. I’m your son’s partner.”

Greg missed the next part of the conversation, too overwhelmed with what he’d heard. His stomach flipped, which wasn’t very comfortable at present. _Partner? If only it were true! I’m not hallucinating, am I?_

“Oh dear, Greggy, you look terrible!”

Greg then felt his mother pat his hand. He opened his eyes and saw her in her nice clothes, makeup done, and a concerned look in her eyes. “Hey, Mum.”

“Gregory, darling, you just rest. I’ll be taking your mother–”

“Betty,” his mum said.

“Betty to the exhibit, alright? We’ll be back soon.”

“Do you need anything?”

Greg shook his head. “No, thanks Mum.”

Mycroft bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. It felt like electricity surged through his body. “I’ll stop by the pharmacy on the way home, love.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, too shocked to say much else.

His heart was near bursting, as were tears. He knew being unwell was making him emotional, but he just was so grateful to be taken care of. He’d fallen back asleep before hearing them leave the room.

~

“Greg, dear? Your Mycroft has brought you some medicine. Take this, it should help.”

Greg blinked blearily. His mum was there on the bed, handing him a small cup of water and some pills. He didn’t question what they were, he just downed them in one gulp.

“Myc?” he asked, peering behind her.

“He had to go to work, love. I’ll say, I’m surprised you hadn’t told me about him but I like him. He clearly loves you very deeply. And he’s so smart! It was like having my own personal guide.”

“Really? Well, I-I don’t know if, uh, things’ll last–”

“You listen to me, Gregory David Lestrade. If you are thinking of ending it with him, we’re going to have words young man.”

Greg was jarred by the intensity of her reaction. “Uh,” he let escape his lips.

“He’s enamoured with you; and alright, I don’t know how things are really between you, but it’s clear he’s a very sensitive soul and devoted to you. You should have heard him speak about you. Promise me you’ll talk to him first and try work through things.”

Greg was still a little shocked. “I meant more, he might not want to be with me–”

“Oh, love,” Betty interrupted again. “I know you worry given what _she_ did, but trust me when I say this one’s a good egg.”

His mum then hugged him, and Greg was left feeling very confused and worried. He loved that his mum liked Mycroft so much, but it sounded like it wasn’t real. He hoped otherwise, but Mycroft _had_ just been making it up to help him out. _But surely Mycroft wouldn’t make it up that well, or that much, just to escort my mother about? Is it wrong to be happy Mum approves of my boyfriend? Yes, Greg, given he’s not really your boyfriend. Fuck me. _

“It’s late, so I’ll be headed back home now. I hope to come back and see you soon. You and Mycroft can take me to lunch and I can hear all about things!”

“Sure, mum,” he responded, unable to think of anything else.

“Do you need anything more? Mycroft said he’ll be back after work, so that’s in about two hours.”

“Oh. No, no, I’m fine.”

Betty smiled at him, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Mum.”

And then it was quiet. Greg picked up his phone to text Mycroft a thank you, and a little prodding as to what went on, but fell asleep with the phone in his hand.

~

  * Gregory, I anticipate that your mother has left by now. I apologise if I made you uncomfortable today. I was trying to help.

Greg smiled at the text, but it left him with more questions.

  * You did help. Thank you. Mum said you’ll be coming back after work?
  * I am bringing you some dinner. I realise it is late, but I expected you have been sleeping and would want something.
  * Yes, thanks. Could we talk when you’re here?

There was a pause. Mycroft usually was prompt with his replies. He hoped he hadn’t scared the man away.

  * This will be about my telling your mother we were a couple, yes?

Greg bit his lip. His heart was beating uncomfortably in his chest, but he was grateful that on the whole he was feeling better. Whatever was in those pills worked magic.

  * I know it mustn’t have been easy for you. I just wanted to understand some things.

_There, that shouldn’t be implying that I wouldn’t want it, if it was real, but it doesn’t leave me too exposed. _He waited with baited breath as there was another long pause.

  * I apologise for jumping in without discussing it with you. It was difficult to lie to your mother, but not in the way you think.

_Ok, what does that mean?_

  * It’s fine, it was a good solution and I’m grateful. When you say that, what is it that you think I think?

Yes, there was a better way to say that, Greg knew. He just was having trouble forming sentences for the swirling emotions in his chest.

  * The lie was that we were together, and I was expressing myself honestly to her under false pretences.
  * You… were? But she said… she said that you were enamoured with me.

_Shit, that was probably way too much_.

  * She is correct.

Greg was sure that time stopped in that moment. He just stared at the screen. _Could this be real?_

  * So you’re saying that her impression, that you were happy in a loving relationship with me, is true?

He knew it wasn’t exactly correct, or what he wanted to ask, but he had to avoid saying outright ‘that you love me’. It felt like a stab in the gut to read the first word of the reply, but he continued.

  * No, Greg. We are not in a loving relationship – that was the lie. Everything else – how I feel about you, how dear you are to me, how I promised to always be there to take care of you… that’s all true.  
  
The difficult part of lying that we were in a relationship was that I wished it was true.

Greg nearly dropped the phone before the second text came through. He scrambled to hold it back upright as the third came in.

  * I should have said it in person, but this way stops me from chickening out as I have done every time I have tried to tell you in the past.

He took a moment to think about how to respond. He could write a novel about his feelings over the years, of the pining, of the desperate need to spend time with him, of finding any excuse to meet… but instead decided to keep it simple.

  * Me too.

He smiled, and sent another.

  * I want it to be true too, Myc. I love you.

Relief washed over him, and then he was filled with excitement. He’d just admitted his feelings, and Mycroft had shared them (despite it happening the other way around). He couldn’t help but smile. He was feeling a lot better now he’d gotten that out of his system after so many years.

He just needed the virus out of his system, now.


End file.
